


as long as its me youre kissing

by faginet



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (im crying))))), Drinking to Cope, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Self-Hatred, gratuitous overuse of the word fuck, kinkshaming, like. a fuck ton of self hatred please be forewarned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faginet/pseuds/faginet
Summary: "man is afraid he is being homophobic to his gay roommate but it turns out he's just in love with him" AU with my boys because they deserve a good slow(ish) burn, even if its a bit of a mess





	1. A Problem

**Author's Note:**

> lmao is this fandom still alive hope i didnt post this too late 
> 
> so what hapeend was i took a background charcter that had like six lines and i made this 20k+ fic and honestly?? i just wanna know why. there might not be a reason because sometimes gay shit just happens and man thats fuckn life.

Jake was seriously worried.

 

He wasn’t worried about normal things really, like failing his classes or worried he was going to die alone and unloved. Well. Jake didn't worry about that anymore, his friends always filled up his worries about abandonment with love. They were always there for him, even when his parents weren't. Anyways, he wasn't too worried about that. He was worried he was being an absolute asshole. Which was kind of a new worry for him.

 

Jake knew that he was an asshole in high school, and the squip incident basically turned his whole life perspective around. He had realized that he was insanely rude to Christine when he stood her up at rehearsal, he flaked out on people important to him like Chloe, and he was shallow and only interested in getting laid. He was also pretty narcissistic. And inconsiderate. And a bit manipulative. 

 

One thing that was different about him from Rich and Jeremy was that his squip didn’t tell him that he was terrible, he did that to himself afterwards.

 

Jake had started wondering why Rich and Jeremy wanted squips in the first place. Once he had gotten to know both of them pretty well in the weeks that followed the play, he realized they were already pretty cool guys to begin with. Jeremy was a really passionate guy, and Rich was…

 

The new Rich Goranski was a pretty different guy to Jake. They had been best friends for a year and a half and Jake thought he knew a lot about him, like how his dad was a deadbeat asshole, how he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, how he was always down to hang out and cruise around neighborhoods late at night and yell at various houses. But as it turns out, a lot of his confident, loud personality was because of the squip, just a front to look cool. 

 

The actual Rich Goranski was a lot less loud, and a lot less inconsiderate. He was super true to himself, kind, and honest. He also had a lisp. And wasn't straight. Which Jake didn’t mind, by the way. He was still pretty competitive and flirtatious though, and Jake was glad to still see that part of him, even though some of his old characteristics were gone. He grew to appreciate the new Rich Goranski in all of his fiery, lispy glory. 

 

Jake hadn’t really understood why they wanted squips in the first place besides to boost their popularity - they already had cool personalities. That prompted him to wonder why they thought they were losers in the first place, which lead him to questioning if he thought they had been losers, which lead him to wondering why he would’ve thought they were losers simply for being themselves. Jake hadn't known Rich freshman year so he didn't know him when he was a ‘loser’. Jake had seen Jeremy transform from nerd into player within a few days though, and he had previously thought that Jeremy was a loser. So, he thought, why isn't he a loser now? Is it because he knew him personally? Why was he so quick to judge other people he didn't know personally? 

 

Oh fuck, he was such an asshole. 

 

He then committed the rest of his junior year and all of senior year to self-analysis, asking himself why he judged others, why he acted certain ways, why he wanted certain things. It was hard, and it took a fuck of a long time. He eventually came to the conclusion that he had been an absolute piece of shit to, well, basically everybody he knew. Before he was squipped, he hadn't really worried about how he treated people, so he didn't think to put himself in check. He hadn't really cared. So, he began to apologize en mass.

 

The squip group chat (named “squoop” thanks to Christine) had assured Jake that he was a good friend to them, and while his apology was accepted, they said that he didn't need to beat himself up about what he had done in the past. Jake wasn't too sure about that last part, but he tried to make up for it by being determined to always watch out for when he was being an asshole.

 

And now he was afraid he was being an assshole.

 

He and Rich roomed together at college, which was easy to do since Jake was pretty loaded from his parent’s laundering scheme, and he already had an apartment set up from when Rich burned his house down. They had gone a full year enrolled at Rutgers without much incident. Jake went steady with Chloe for a while but they ended up going separate ways. She went to Columbia with Jenna, so it was hard to stay together when they went to school in different states. They all stayed good friends though, and Jake’s friendship with Rich only got better. Rich failed freshman physics since he didn't have a supercomputer to do his homework for him. They both switched majors, they both fought about chores, they both got jobs, they both had fun at parties. They had grown to be best friends again, this time knowing who each other really was. It was good.

 

Until Rich started dating people.

 

He had waited a while before he really sought out a relationship since he was scared shitless that the other person wouldn't like him without an added bonus of something, a little extra amazing thing that made him super desirable. Jake had to talk him out of his fears a few times.

 

“Rich, you're a really cool guy all alone, you don't need anything else about you. You don't even need me as a wingman; you are your own fucking wingman,” Jake had told him one night.

 

“I mean I guess but,” Rich sighed. He nursed his beer slowly. It was late at night, technically morning, and finals and summer were coming in fast. “That just means I'm gonna have to start all over again. Going on a quest to attract whoever, failing, trying again, failing, trying yet a- _ fucking _ -gain, failing…” he trailed off and put his face in his hands “God, I just don't want to embarrass myself.”

 

“And if you tried to have a little faith in yourself, you probably won't,” Jake pulled Rich’s drink away from him. “You just have to make an effort. Chances are, your date is just as nervous as you are. It'll be fine.”

 

Rich sighed. “Okay,” he mumbled behind a scarred hand.

 

Jake clapped his shoulder, making Rich lower his hands from his face.“C’mon, it's one in the morning, let's go to sleep. I have an opening shift tomorrow,” Jake stood up from their table. Rich mumbled again at Jake in response and shuffled his way down the hallway.

 

Just as Rich opened the door to his room, half-asleep and half-drunk, Jake spoke up. “Shit, I meant to ask, what’s the girl’s name?”

 

Rich suddenly froze and turned around slowly to face Jake still standing at the dining table. “Uh...it’s–it’s not a girl.”

 

“...Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” Rich’s hands fiddled nervously. There was a beat of awkward, sluggish silence.

 

“Well, what’s their name?”

 

“Uh, Eric. His name is Eric.”

 

“That’s...that’s nice, man,” Jake criticized himself for how he let that sentence slip out. He didn't want to sound unaccepting of Rich’s bisexuality, he was totally cool with it. He didn't know why he was so hesitant to talk about it with him. It wasn’t like he was totally uncomfortable to the idea of Rich being bi.  He just…felt…weird about it?

 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s-it's nice,” Rich stayed stagnant at his bedroom door. He looked like he was afraid he was about to be interrogated. Rich almost never looked afraid. Fuck, that means Jake did something wrong. Okay, just clean it up, explain yourself then apologize, and it'll be fine. Okay. 

 

“Hey, I don't mean to sound like I'm knocking you or anything dude. I just wasn't like, expecting that as an answer. I shouldn't have assumed, that's my fault.”

 

“No it’s–” Rich exhaled, “It’s okay.” Another silence fell between them, this time longer. The agonizing seconds of averted eyes and loud breaths almost made Jake want to crawl out of his skin. Fuck, that didn't help did it? Just as Jake was about to speak up, Rich interrupted him with, “I’m pretty tired man, I'm gonna head to bed now.”

 

“I–okay, goodnight,” Jake stuttered. Rich curtly nodded and shuffled into his room, leaving Jake standing alone under the only light on in the apartment, wondering why the fuck he let that moment be the most awkward thing that ever happened between him and Rich. 

 

There were plenty of other reasons why they would have an awkward silence, but Rich going on a date with a guy shouldn't be one of them. 

 

So why did he treat it that way?

 

Fuck.

 

Was he being a homophobic asshole?

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

-

 

Four months later, something worse happened. It was now two weeks into their second year, and Rich had gone on eight dates with Eric. Jake didn't know why he was counting.

 

He was supposed to be finishing this chapter of his sociology textbook. But was he doing that? No. No, he was thinking about Eric, and how Rich had never brought him over. He rarely talked about Eric except the day after their dates and when both of them were at the LGBT club that Rich volunteered at often. He almost never talked about his love life anymore. Probably because Jake fucked up at two in the morning four fucking months ago and acted like Rich made him uncomfortable and that he wasn't a person he could be himself with. Probably because Jake was an asshole.

 

Jake was staring blankly at lines of text he didn't care to comprehend when Rich opened the door to the apartment. Jake looked up, expecting to see a shining, smiling face. Unfortunately, that's not the one he saw.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong, man?” Jake asked as Rich let his bag slip off his shoulder an thud against the floor. He shucked off his shoes and let himself fall into the couch, staring blankly in front of him. Jake shoved himself away from the dining table and walked over to Rich, who hadn’t acknowledged Jake at all yet. Jake stopped behind the chair beside the couch, keeping a healthy distance. He didn't want Rich to feel bad, but he also wanted to respect his boundaries. It's not like he wanted to shower Rich with kind, intimate gestures and affection when he felt like shit, he just…wanted him to not feel like shit. Yeah. Jake elected to ignore that thought his brain gave him and instead asked Rich, “Was your day shitty?”

 

Rich took a few seconds to answer. His face was almost entirely emotionless while he said, “Eric broke up with me.”

 

“Oh. Dude, I'm sorry–”

 

“He was cheating on me too.”

 

“Fuck, that's even worse.”

 

Rich turned to look at him, suddenly outraged. “Fuck yeah it's worse! I was fucking planning on introducing him to you, start bringing him over! I was trying  _ so hard _ to make it work! God, he had this excuse of ‘I wanna go slow, my last relationship messed me up’ which was fine, except it was a motherfucking lie,” Rich sniffed, eyes red and wide with anger. His voice quieted down, sounding almost miserable. “He was stringing me long for fucking months.”

 

“God, Rich, I'm so sorry,” Jake sat in the chair, leaning towards Rich in hopes of making it seem like Jake was on his side. Supporting him. Whatever, just a positive thing.

 

“Yeah,” Rich whispered as he ran his right arm across his eyes. “It’s–It’s whatever. It's fine. It didn't work. Just means I get to try again. It’s cool. I never even saw him that often anyway. It never would've worked out.”

 

“Are you okay though?” Jake asked, “I mean, you don't have to say it’s–”

 

“Can we like, not talk about this, man? I just. I don't want to think about anything right now,”  Rich pleaded, blank stare adorning his face once again. He wasn't looking at Jake anymore, instead looking at his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Jake took this as his cue to go back to his homework and leave Rich alone. So he did.

 

While Jake was pretending to busy himself with classical theory, Rich curled himself up on the couch and started to doze off. Jake had been stealing concerned glances at him for the past hour, wondering how someone could fall asleep so upset. Whenever Jake got upset he usually had to yell at someone or break something, but Rich wasn’t like that. Anymore, anyway. 

 

When Rich was squipped, he usually went out on mailbox-killing sprees with Jake when they were either bored or feeling like shit. Sometimes they went out and picked up some girls. Jake didn't know if that really happened anymore since Rich had always tried to stay positive and upbeat for the past two years since the incident. Whatever. At least Rich wasn't doing dangerous things to calm down, Jake told himself. Sleeping was better than like, killing yourself. Huh. That reminded him...

 

When Rich was in the hospital, he told Jake that he felt his worst during ninth grade. Like, to the point of suicidal thoughts. Did Rich ever try to kill himself? Is that what happened at Jake’s party?

 

Would he try to kill himself now?

 

Oh god. Okay. Jake didn't want to think about that. He forced himself to look over at Rich, new anxiety tainting Jake’s field of vision. It’s probably fine, he told himself, Rich might not feel that bad. 

 

Fuck, but what if he did feel that bad?

 

Jake was officially too worried to finish his homework. Fucking damn it. His sociology group would be pissed at him if he came in tomorrow empty handed again. It was only the second week and he was already behind. Oh well, there was no point in trying to finish it, he would fail anyway.

 

He gathered his supplies up in his arms and moved to his room to carelessly dump it all on his bed. Exasperated, Jake ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to decide what to do. Should he leave Rich alone to rest some more? Should he wake him up to see how he's doing? No, that would just piss him off. Rich hated being woken up. He couldn't wait for Rich to wake up, he decided. He needed to do something,  _ anything _ , to work the tension out. 

 

He decided going to the gym would be a good idea. He packed a bag and filled a water bottle on his way out. As he went to pick up his keys from the coffee table, he became face-to-face with a sleeping Rich. A pang of…guilt? Sympathy? Something, some emotion surged through him as he studied Rich’s face, which was stuck in a frown, shapely eyebrows furrowing, mouth held in a straight line. His arms were crossed with his hands balled into fists. He looked miserable even in his sleep. Jake didn't like it. Actually, scratch that, he hated it.

 

He stood back up, and looked around feverishly for something that might help Rich feel better and stop fucking...frowning. Once he spotted a blanket that had fallen off the back of the couch a few nights ago, he decided he would tuck Rich in. Yeah, yeah, it was kind of a pathetic, baby-ish thing to do to a friend, but Jake felt really bad for him. He wouldn't really forgive himself if he didn't give Rich at least some comfort, even if it meant treating him like a toddler.

 

Draping the soft blanket over him, Jake noticed that Rich’s lips were super chapped. Jake frowned a little bit. Rich wasnt really great at taking care of himself, Jake would have to remind him to drink some water when he got back.

 

Satisfied with how Rich looked a little more comfortable, Jake headed out, eager to let some stress go and to get some blood flowing.

 

-

 

Rich wasn't home when he got back.

 

The blanket was still on the couch, but Rich was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in his room or Jake’s, not in any room in the apartment. Jake felt worry cling to the back of his head, wondering where the fuck he could've gone, but he managed to calm himself down a little bit. Rich was probably out getting some food, he always loved to eat when he was stressed. Yeah. He was out getting some food. He would be back. Rich always came back. 

 

Jake showered and threw some sleep pants on, deciding to order a pizza. He got one half of his favorite (sausage and olive), and the other half for Rich (Hawaiian) for leftovers. By the time the pizza arrived, Rich still wasn't home. Jake decided to wait a little bit before texting him. The delivery girl was cute, and interested, since Jake had neglected to put a shirt on. Usually Jake would play along, but he felt a little bit too worried about Rich to go along with it. It threw him off a bit.

 

Jake finished his half of the pizza. Rich still wasn’t home. It was ten at night now. Jake  _ had _ to text him, the worry was back and it was back with a force.

 

**JakeyD** : Hey man , back from the gym and i got us a pie , where r u ?

 

Rich didn't answer for ten minutes, which left Jake staring nervously at his phone screen the entire time. Until finally:

 

**ShortAss** : hwey. Omw back

 

Jake let out a breath. Rich was alright, thank god. He moved to throw away his paper plate and get a new one for Rich when he got back. Then, remembering back to earlier in the day, he got a glass of tap water out for him. Just to remind Rich.

 

After a short while, heard a key enter the door, but not turn. Huh. That should be Rich. Why wasn’t he opening the door?

 

Jake opened it for him. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw.

 

Rich was crying.

 

His eyes snapped open wide, terrified when he saw Jake. His hands here shaking, his hair was ruffled, his face was puffy and wet with tears. His forehead shined with sweat. What the fuck happened?

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Jake asked, unmoving.

 

Rich sniffed and opened his mouth, almost as if he had prepared something to say. Instead of words, a sob came out. It sounded as if it was ripped from his chest.

 

“Oh fuck man, come here, come inside,” Jake gingerly grabbed Rich by the shoulder and pulled him into the apartment, grabbing his keys out of the handle and shutting the door behind him. He turned back to Rich, ready to ask some questions, but instead got an armful of bawling roommate. Rich clung to him with what seemed like his entire strength, face pushed into Jake’s shirtless chest, taking in shaky breaths and letting out even shakier cries. Jake didn’t know what exactly to do, so he settled for hugging Rich back. 

 

As soon as Jake pulled him in, Rich immediately pushed back, saying, “Shit. Dude you aren't wearing a shirt. I’m gonna get snot all over your–your chest.”

 

Jake looked down at where Rich had planted his wet, goobery face. There was a humid spot on his skin, but Jake didn't really mind. He shrugged in response. “It’s cool. I’ll go get you some Kleenex.”

 

Rich sniffed, red faced. “We’re all out.”

 

Oh. “Toilet paper then.”

 

Rich huffed out what would be categorized as a breathless laugh. “Dope.”

 

When Jake came back with a roll of makeshift tissues, Rich was sitting against the door. He was staring at his hands, refusing to look up at Jake when he cleared his throat. Jake tried again, “Let’s go to your room.”

 

Rich’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What? Uh, n–no. I’d–I’d rather just stay here.”

 

“Oh. Cool,” Jake strided over and sat down next to Rich, handing him the roll of toilet paper. Rich accepted it anxiously. They sat in silence for a minute, both unmoving. Jake spoke up first, “What happened?”

 

Rich’s head fell and he chuckled, sounding like he was in spite of himself. “I fucked Morgan.”

 

Morgan? “Who?”

 

“Morgan Williams. She’s in my poly sci class. She had a party tonight,” Rich shoved half his face into his hand, swallowing loudly. He stopped talking, so Jake egged him on.

 

“And?”

 

Rich laughed dryly. “And I felt like shit. I started drinking. I–I just wanted to get out of my head for a little bit,” he cleared his throat anxiously. “When I was…when I was squipped, it would tell me that if I fucked a girl of its choice, then it would leave me alone. It stayed true to its word, left me alone. I felt better if I did what it said. Usually.”

 

What the fuck? Jake never heard that before. “Jesus dude. Is that what was happening when we would–”

 

“Yeah. That’s what was happening. I was drowning myself in pussy to get the bad shit away.”

 

“Why didn't you tell me that before?”

 

Rich swallowed loudly. “Sometimes…there are just things you wanna…keep to yourself, you know?”

 

Jake could understand that. He nodded. 

 

“Can I have a drink?” Rich asked.

 

“You've already had stuff to drink,” Jake retorted. He didn't want Rich to get in an even worse state than this. 

 

“Fair point. I’m sorry bro, I just…don't really want to have this conversation.”

 

“You don't have to talk if you don't want to.”

 

“I know. I…I need to though,” Rich took a deep breath, letting his head fall back to rest on the door. He closed his eyes. Jake waited. 

 

After about half a minute of silence, Jake remembered that he had gotten Rich a glass of water before he came back. He’d totally forgotten about it. Jake moved to go get it, but Rich’s voice stopped him. 

 

“I fucked Morgan to feel better and I hated it.” His voice was low and small, almost like a child’s. He sounded devastated. Jake looked over at him and saw new tears falling freely down his cheeks. Oh god. 

 

“Why–why did you hate it?” Jake put a hand on Rich’s scarred shoulder, hoping it would comfort him.

 

“Because it didn't work.”

 

“It didn't make you feel better?”

 

“No. It–” Rich cut off by dropping the toilet paper and raising his hands to scrub at his face. He kept his hands up there, almost as if he was hiding himself. Like he was ashamed. Jake decided that he hated seeing Rich like this. Absolutely fucking hated it. He would kill Eric if he ever saw him. Eric made Rich feel like this. He hated Eric. Fuck Eric.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rich said.

 

“Why are you sorry?”

 

“You probably feel weird trying to comfort your roommate that’s fucking…sobbing on the floor,” Rich said humorlessly. 

 

“Nah man, I don't feel weird about it at all,” Jake responded in earnest. He really didn't. He hated seeing Rich in such a horrible mood, but there wasn’t much he felt like he could do to fix it besides just being there for him.

 

Rich nodded in response, looking away from Jake. He wiped his face with some toilet paper. “I’m gonna turn in for the night. Try to, uh, to sleep some of this away.” He stood up and began stumbling briskly down the hallway before Jake could stop him.

 

“Hey, wait,” Jake called out. When he saw Rich stop, he grabbed the glass of water and walked it over to him. “Drink some water, it’ll help.”

 

Rich stared at him for a beat. Then stared at the water in Jake’s outstretched hand. Then back at Jake. It was like he was making the most important decision in his life, Jake didn't know why he was so hesitant to accept. Rich smiled, lopsided and sweet. “Thanks, man,” he said, accepting the glass. Their fingers brushed each other as Rich took the water. He then turned into his room without saying goodnight, leaving Jake in the hallway to process his night.

 

And what a night it fucking was. 

 

Rich had been dumped, got drunk, had a hookup that made him feel worse, and broke down in front of his roommate. God, he must feel like shit.

 

Which made Jake feel like shit for thinking about how shitty he was being to Rich. 

 

Jake had reacted weirdly when Rich said he was dating Eric. Jake was always uncomfortable thinking about Eric and Rich, but he didn't know why, and he fucking hated it. He should’ve been supportive of Rich, they were best friends. What made it even worse was that Jake really didn't feel weird about Rich sleeping with Morgan. Well, sure, he felt horrible that Rich felt horrible, so he felt bad about Rich making a mistake like that, but. He was telling the truth. And that was so, _ so _ fucking bad. Jake felt weird about Rich being with a boy, but not about Rich being with a girl.

 

What kind of asshole move is that?

 

Why in the fuck was Jake such an asshole?

 

Why in the  _ fuck _ was Jake such a disgusting, homophobic asshole?

 

-

 

Two months later, tensions had risen. Jake and Rich still had easy conversations, and they still acted more or less the same, joking and drinking together. However, Jake could tell that Rich didn't want to tell him things anymore. He started talking more about his classes, more about conversations he’d had with classmates Jake had never met, more about basically everything else but Rich himself. He didn't complain to Jake about his burn scars anymore, he didn't let his lisp slip. He didn't even talk about what he had been texting Jeremy about anymore. And he had been texting Jeremy a lot. 

 

One specific thing Jake picked up on was how Rich always turned his phone screen off whenever Jake was nearby. Whenever Jake would ask what he was looking at, Rich always blew it off as ‘nothing important’. Jake didn't feel like he had the right to pry. Or tease. Or ask Rich how he was doing. He and his stupid fucking homophobic slip-ups made him lose his rights to a comfortable friendship, and it was entirely his fault.

 

Fuck it felt horrible. He cringed at the thought each time. 

 

It felt like they were back at the start of their ‘true friendship’, when Rich was still in the hospital with post-squip trauma and burn injuries. It was…weird. Rich had just burnt Jake’s house down, leaving Jake with two broken legs from trying to escape. Jake was supposed to be mad, and in the back of his mind, he was. He had expected himself to hobble his way into Rich’s hospital room to curse him out, demand the answer to why Rich burned down his entire home, all of his belongings, his connection to his parents, but he instead sat and listened to Rich stumble over his lisp for the first time. 

 

Jake was a little shocked. It wasn't bad or anything, it wasn't even funny or lame to him, just…different. This was a whole new person that was before him. He had found the new Rich endearing, but that still didn't remove the heavy weight of awkward air among them. It had taken a while for them to regain their footing around each other. And it felt uncomfortable the entire fucking time. It felt like Jake had to re-make his best friend his best friend. 

 

The good news out of this was it seemed to be getting better. For today at least. Michael had invited them all out to a college bar he tended at on his off night, promising discounts. Jake didn't know if you could actually get discounts at a bar, but he was excited to go nonetheless. Everyone in the group chat was able to make it except Chloe and Christine. Chloe had to do a paper for her torts assignment; she was always busy since she was a pre-law student. Jake didn't really mind—it had been awkward seeing each other in person since they broke up. Christine had to finish stuff for her poetry class, so she reluctantly skipped out on seeing all of them, but wished all of them well.

 

So, Jake and Rich talked about being excited for the meet up. It was easier to talk today, Jake realized. Rich actually looked at him when he answered Jake’s questions instead of looking at a place right in front of him, anywhere except Jake’s face, almost like he was too unsettled to look at Jake in the eye. He was perky and upbeat, eager to be around Jake instead of being visibly uncomfortable. It felt good, like back to normal instead of square one. 

 

The afternoon until they set off for the bar was nice. The first hour at the bar was even better. It was really good to see everybody again since they’d all been so busy with college. They all talked almost every single day in their group chat, but that paled in comparison to seeing them all in person. Everybody was thrumming with happiness. Jake loved seeing them. They were all easily the loudest group of people in the room, with Jake loudly arguing with Michael about what lunch was the worst at Middleborough, and Rich literally crying with laughter over Jenna’s rants about people in her Psych class.

 

“They did fucking not!” Rich cried, grinning widely as he threw his hands onto his face. People at the bar glared over at their table, annoyed with them, but nobody cared.

 

“They did! Out of literally  _ anything _ that we could have analyzed, they picked a fucking  _ daddy kink _ !” Jenna repeated, making Rich begin laughing hysterically. 

 

Brooke looked like someone had personally vandalized something of hers, shocked and appalled, and Michael giggled uncontrollably, leaning into Jeremy.

 

Jenna continued, “And they didn't criticize it or anything, they were  _ supporting _ it! This literally happened to me! I couldn't fucking–I couldn't fucking breathe. I broke down in class while they were presenting it. It was so, so fucking disrespectful.”

 

“Jenna you're the only one who did the right thing!” Michael squawked, leaning across the table to place praising hands on Jenna’s arms. “Just— _ oh my god _ , okay—just imagine if Jeremy had a daddy kink–”

 

“Michael!” Jeremy elbowed Michael in the ribs, knocking him into Jake’s side and making him spill a little bit of his Guinness. The entire table burst into laughter.

 

“Dude, I didn’t say you did! I just meant ‘what if’!” Michael griped. Jeremy hid his face in his hands.

 

Rich chimed in, “Holy fuck, no shit though, I hooked up with a guy last week who had a daddy kink! He just called me it like, out of the fucking blue!” 

 

The table erupted into more laughter. Jake was the odd one out, who didn’t laugh at all.

 

“Really?” Jake questioned. Rich hadn't told him that. He hadn't even talked about anyone specifically in weeks, let alone the fact that he got laid.

 

Rich turned to him, wide eyed. Confused, Jake guessed. “Really? I thought I told you that.”

 

Jake looked back at him, even more confused. “No, you didn't.”

 

“Oh,” Rich chuckled uncomfortably from across the table. “Sorry, man.” 

 

Fortunately, before an awkward silence could begin to settle, Jenna started another rant, capturing everyone's attention. Everyone but Jake, anyway.

 

Jake didn't know why he was so hung up on this. He honestly felt a little betrayed. Rich usually told him about this stuff, he usually bragged about it to everybody immediately after it happened. He reasoned he shouldn't be too surprised about it though. Jake always acted weird whenever Rich brought up his sex life. Jake had no real idea why, but he knew that it was his fault, his thing to deal with. Rich didn't do anything wrong, except befriend an asshole. Rich was probably uncomfortable being his roommate—or even being his friend—now. 

 

Jake hated himself for it. He hated how he was such a hypocrite, talking all about his sex life and who where and when he got laid, yet choking whenever Rich talked about his. He hated how Rich looked at him ever since Rich said that he was dating Eric, face blank but eyes swimming with caution and shame. He hated how he made Rich feel ashamed. He hated that the only thing he was able to think about recently was how shitty a friend he was to Rich and how he hadn't done anything yet to fix it. 

 

He reached for his Guinness.

 

An excited Michael broke him out of his depressing, kinda pathetic thought train. Patting Jake’s shoulder with vigor, Michael hoarsely whispered, “Jake! Jake, the pool table is open. We gotta–we gotta play some. Come on, move, let's go-o-o-o-o.” He began pushing Jake out of his seat. He and Michael have been competing against each other in games for a while, although Jake never really got into video games (the ones Michael and Jeremy played, anyway). Ever since Jake tried to teach Michael and Jeremy pool, Michael fell in love with it. They played for each others money, usually. It was fun, and super easy. Jake loved it more than he’d care to admit.

 

This should lighten his mood a bit. 

 

-

 

“Anyways, Jeremy and I got a dog,” Michael started as he lined up his shot. Michael was beating Jake already, and Jake was itching for Michael to fail. 

 

“Holy shit really?” Jake broke into a grin. He loved dogs, so much that he embarrassed Rich every time they were in public because Jake immediately ran to pet every single dog he saw. “Wait why didn't you tell the group chat?”

 

Michael laughed, taken aback slightly by Jake’s enthusiastic reaction. “Yeah, like four days ago. We named him Yoshi, he's a…lab mix we think? I dunno what he is, but he's super energetic. And I don't know? I think we forgot?”

 

“Oh my god, it's a  _ lab _ ?” Jake practically melted, pulling his pool stick closer to his chest in excitement. Fuck, he loved dogs. “And you  _ forgot  _ to  _ tell me?  _ I am so betrayed, Michael.”

 

“Oh my god, you look like you're in love with him and you've never seen a picture of him yet,” Michael said. He took his shot and hit his fourth ball in a corner basket. Smugness grew its way across Michaels face, looking up at Jake and sticking his tongue out. Ass. Jake ignored him. Michael aimed for another ball and missed. 

 

“Well, luckily for me I know a good boy when I hear of one,” Jake replied, moving over to where the cue ball landed. Michael laughed. “How's your dating thing going, by the way?” He asked as he set up his aim. 

 

“It's going really well, honestly. Well, obviously, we just got a dog. Not much else to report,” he said as he picked up his beer. Michael and Jeremy had started dating in the summer of senior year and had moved in together. Everybody had seen it coming from miles away, even Christine, who had dumped Jeremy so that he could be with Michael. That was a really interesting month of Jeremy coming to Rich to cry, Michael coming to Jake to cry, and Christine having to spell things out for the both of them. And she still stayed super close friends with them. God, she was such a selfless person. Jake really admired her. 

 

“How's the bangin’?” Jake grinned as he sank a ball into a basket.

 

Michael choked on his drink. Jake cackled at him. “Jake! You–you don't just–” Michael was cut off by his own coughing. “This is a public place! I–Jake I fucking  _ work here! _ ”

 

Jake held his hands up, feigning innocence. He held a snarky grin. “I'm sorry man, continue.”

 

“Fuck you, I hate you, why did I want to play pool with you,” Michael complained as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He continued, glaring at Jake. “The ‘bangin’ is going great, but Yoshi is annoyed by it and barks at us.”

 

“No shit!” Jake laughed, making him miss his next shot. Oh well, this story seems worth it. 

 

“No shit, dude. He fucking hates it when we close the door. He has like, separation anxiety or something. He always cries when we close the door to our room and he's not in it.”

 

“Well hey, that makes two of us,” Jake says, light heartedly. He's always able to joke around Michael, since they both play down their issues with humor. 

 

“Shit, true,” Michael pointed at Jake in agreement. As he was lining up for his next shot, Michael said, “Oh! maybe you could babysit him. I think you'd like each other.”

 

Jake dramatically gasped. It was like Michael just asked nine year old Jake if he wanted to go to Disneyland, which, _ duh _ . “Really? Oh man, please.”

 

“Yeah…well,  actually now that I think about it, trading two annoying gay dads for another pair of two annoying gay dads wouldn't really help him.” Michael took the shot and Jake stayed silent. The sound of pool balls clacking together filled the space between them. Michael looked back up at a tense Jake. Not offended, not even remotely. Just…uncomfortable. Michael frowned slightly and shot back up from his playing position to look Jake in the eye. 

 

“I'm…I'm not gay…” was all that Jake could say. He acted hurt, for whatever reason. 

 

“Dude, of all the things I said in that sentence, that's the one you're shocked about?” Michael asked, incredulous.

 

“I'm…” Jake started softly. He felt like the world was spinning slower, that was probably the alcohol though. 

 

“I expected you to yell at me for calling you annoying, not gay,” Michael said. He held an accusatory tone that made Jake feel small. Jake didn't like it. 

 

“I didn't…I didn't expect you to call me and Rich gay is all,” Jake tried to excuse himself. The truth was, he didn't know why he felt so attacked. Michael joked about this stuff all the time, and Jake had fun with it. This should've been no different. But for some reason, Michael barely insinuating that Jake wasn't straight set alarms off in his head that had no label. Why was he so uncomfortable? 

 

He…

 

He wasn't gay, was he? 

 

Fuck, was Jake gay?

 

“Well,” Michael huffed, breaking Jake out of his thoughts. “You and Rich might as well be gay, you meet all the required boxes on the gay application form.” He smiled as he sank another ball. 

 

Jake didn't know if he could do this. He and Michael usually played a few rounds when the pool table was open, and they had just started their first one. They were all planning on leaving the bar at eleven, which was a few hours away. He didn't know what to do, he didn't feel like breaking something, and yelling at Michael would be horrible and it would only create more damage rather than fix it. 

 

Fuck, Jake was going to have to suppress a crisis in front of people, he hadn't really done that before. He had suppressed a crisis from himself, when his parents initially left, but this one was different. It had already started before Jake could stop it. He couldn't ignore it now. He prayed to god that Michael didn't talk about it any more than he already had. 

 

“But–but I’m not fucking gay,” Jake protested dumbly. 

 

Michael grinned, all teeth and no sympathy. “Uh-huh.”

 

-

 

Jake was fucking gay. Jake Dillinger was so, so fucking gay. He was gay. And he was straight. For the lord of fuck, he was pan. Oh god he was so fucking pan.

 

You know what this didn't help? It didn't help how he was an asshole to Rich for six fucking months. It didn't help that Rich thought he was a homophobe and that he was uncomfortable around Jake because of it. It didn't fucking help.

 

God, what the  _ fuck _ does he do. He was laying face up, staring at the ceiling, contemplating basically his whole life. Fuck. What the fucking fuck does he do now. When was he first into guys? When did he not care who he was into? Why didn't he notice until now? Shouldn't it take longer to figure out what your sexuality is once you figure out you're not straight? Shouldn't it take some experimentation? He’d never slept with a guy, how could he know?

 

A sudden, almost forgotten voice spoke up out of the deep recesses of Jake’s brain.  _ There's no way you are what you think you are. You've only ever slept with girls. You're a liar.  _

 

_ You're a liar.  _

 

_ Y o u ' r e  a  l i a r . _

 

Jake bolted upright in bed. Fuck. He hadn't heard his squip in a really, really long while, not since senior year. His brain was going to let him fester in his own self doubt with his unwelcome guest if he didn't…do something. He needed to do fucking  _ something _ , talk to someone. But who  _ could _ he talk to? 

 

Michael, maybe? He was the first one that came up in Jake’s mind. Michael was openly gay, had been since senior year. Also, he was kinda the one who started this. He was probably asleep at this hour though, Jake realized as he glanced over at his clock. 2:35 AM. Fuck, Jake was a mess. Who else, who else? Anybody else… 

 

Rich was bi, thats kinda close to pan. 

 

Woah, okay, no. Absolutely fucking not. Anybody but Rich. Rich probably hated him. If anything, at the very least telling Rich that he's pan would be poorly timed and…and Jake didn't want to intrude.

 

_ You’re a horrible friend. _

 

_ “ _ I know that, dickhead,” Jake muttered behind gritted teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He could handle his own self-critical thoughts, but he had a hard time with one more voice in his head saying the same thing along with a more ruthless tongue. His squip may be a dog (and Jake loved dogs), but it sure was fucking abusive, which made it strange and horrific coming from an animal he adored so much. Unlike Jake, his squip cut right to the chase, calling him names, criticizing every thought Jake had and cut through it with insults, trying to steer him in the ‘right direction’, which was back to being the ‘cool’ asshole he was in junior year.

 

His squip didn't have any power over him, Jake knew that. Nonetheless, he didn't want to go through this again.

 

_ You need to stop being in love with Rich so you can fix this mess, you sick fuck. _

 

Jake’s eyes snapped open.

 

Okay. 

 

What the  **_fuck_ ** ?

 

Disregarding the deep cut of an insult, did...did Jake’s squip just say that…he was in love with Rich? He didn’t…he didn’t even like Rich in that way. It probably meant it as a joke, to mock Jake into complying.

 

But… 

 

Oh god, he did like Rich in that way.

 

Oh god, he was so fucked.

 

Oh god, everything made sense now. Jake was uncomfortable with Rich talking about dating guys because Jake wanted to be those guys. Jake didn't feel weird about Rich fucking a girl because Rich regretted it. Jake was uncomfortable about Rich talking about his sex life because he wanted to  _ be _ Rich’s sex life.  

 

Oh god, he had a crush on Rich.

 

He was so, so deeply invested with Rich and he didn't even see it. What the  _ fuck _ was wrong with him.

 

Jake was almost hyperventilating now. Oh fuck, he fucked this whole thing up. He fucked it up before he knew why he was fucking it up. God damn it. Jake scrambled over to the side of his bed, kicking his blanket off in the process. He feverishly searched for his phone on his bedside table, unlocking it and opening a new message with Michael. 

 

**JakeyD** : michael

 

It took about a minute for Michael to respond. He wasn't happy when he did.

 

**SpeedWeed** : Jake i swear to god i was literally JUST about to fucking sleep

 

**JakeyD** : i cant sleep

 

**SpeedWeed** : yeah and i wont be able to eitther if you keep texting me so fcknng stop bye

 

**JakeyD** : im having a crisis

 

**SpeedWeed** : thats cool go to bed

 

**JakeyD** : a gay crisis

 

**SpeedWeed** : ..

 

**SpeedWeed** : well first, mood

 

**JakeyD** : im serious i think im gonna die ??

 

**SpeedWeed** : ur not gonnan die ur just gay

 

**JakeyD** : how did u find out u were gay

 

**SpeedWeed** : uh well i did a lot of thinking n shit so that helps uhhh also i always kinda thought guys looked nice but like i didnt have a problem with it so i kinda just grew into it

 

**SpeedWeed** : do u think ur gay?

 

**JakeyD** : sorta ? i Think the term for it is Pan or somthing

 

**SpeedWeed** : dude noice

 

**JakeyD** : theres somethig worse too

 

**SpeedWeed** : ooh :0 !?!?!?!

 

Oh fuck. Jake shouldn't have told him that. He started backpedaling immediately, but it didn't work very well at all.

 

**JakeyD** : fuck sorry dude you gotta sleep

 

**SpeedWeed** : Jake. Jakeothy. Jakey boy. I am awake and i am here to listen to ur gay issues fucking spill bro

 

**JakeyD** : oh my god uh

 

**JakeyD** : i might have a crush on rich ??

 

**SpeedWeed** : FSSJDJKHFGJD OMGG :000

 

**JakeyD** : please dont make fn of me this literally could not be a worse thing rich thinks im a homophobe

 

**SpeedWeed** : no dude i wasnnt gonna make fun of u also rip why does he think ur a homophobe??

 

**JakeyD** : its a long story. Ill tell u about it tomorrow, ill call u after class

 

**SpeedWeed** : sure dude

 

**SpeedWeed** : r u gonna sleep now

 

**JakeyD** : yea im gonna try

 

**SpeedWeed** : good bro. Believe me life gets bettter with some gay so ur not goin down the wrong path r anything :p

 

**JakeyD** : thanks lol . Goodnight

 

**SpeedWeed** : gnightr

 

Jake took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Okay. He shouldn't need to be stressed anymore tonight, he has plans set up to work through this. He could stop worrying, he told himself. It worked a little. He laid back down, exhaling loudly. 

 

The only thing he really could do was sleep. Jake had a 10 AM class tomorrow, or technically today, so he had to get as much sleep as possible and not fucking stay up pining after his best friend who was literally in the room right next to him. God, he was fucked. 

 

Jake became hyper aware of how empty his bed was. Rich felt so far away in another room, yet way too close. Jake felt his stomach tingle with unease as he clutched onto his pillow. 

 

He forced himself to think of anything but Rich. Think about sleep, how comfy his bed was, how warm his room felt despite the harsh chill of the November air. Think about anything but Rich, think about the light that's shining from under the door, think about the gentle wind outside, think about anything but Rich’s soft, dirty blonde hair ruffled by the breeze. 

 

Think about how large the bed was, how much more comfortable he would be with another body sleeping next to him, a constant reminder that he wasn't alone. Think about anything but Rich’s sleeping face, comfortable, not miserable. Think about anything but Rich’s freckles scattered underneath his eyes, on his shoulders, his chest, the best places Jake could think of. Think about anything but… 

  
How Jake was so,  _ so  _ fucked. 


	2. A Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake feels like pure hot shit and jacks off once
> 
> thas the whole plot you dont have to read 6.5k of that shit bye
> 
>  
> 
> -W A R N I N G-  
> i use the f slur in here   
> because you cant have self hatred without slurs used at oneself learned that from experience lads take that as a lesson from papa mess

 

It was almost Christmas. Jake usually would talk about it constantly to Rich, pointing out things that he would want for gifts, both seriously and jokingly, but this year he didn't as much. He was having trouble coming up with things he wanted. 

 

Things that weren't Rich, anyway. 

 

Jake felt absolutely horrible. After the night he found out he had a crush on his best friend, a tidal wave of feelings crashed onto him, it was so much he could barely breathe. He couldn't tell Rich how he felt; having your roommate act homophobic around you is one thing, but then said roommate falling in love with you? That's a ruined friendship, and Jake couldn't bear to lose Rich. He didn't know what he would do without him. 

 

Jake had a plan set: in order to not think about what he wants for the holiday (for Rich to look at him in the eye and tell Jake that he loves him, for Rich to kiss Jake until he saw stars, for Rich to suck on his neck and thread his fingers through Jake’s hair, tugging slightly),  Jake would busy himself with literally  _ anything _ else. 

 

For the past six weeks, Jake had taken extra shifts at the Italian joint he worked at. His manager praised him for his ‘dedication to the job’, but Jake couldn’t really give less of a shit about his job. He just needed to not think about Rich. He had also taken small jobs with people in his apartment complex, walking his old lady neighbor’s dogs, helping his downstairs neighbor Karen put her IKEA furniture together (she bought a lot, Jake was honestly a little concerned), stuff like that. Besides that, he went to the gym almost every day he could, and other than  _ all that _ he tried to study for finals. 

 

He knew he was avoiding Rich, but it wasn't like Rich wasn’t avoiding him in return. Which he was. 

 

Recently, Rich had been going out a lot to call and meet up with people. When Jake asked him who it was, Rich blew it off. Jake hated that he was kept out of something. Jake didn't want to, but he always assumed that they were people Rich was interested in, which made jealousy firmly infuse itself into Jake's brain. Jake hated it. It held the same tone as his squip, but he knew that it was his own emotions, that he was responsible for, and that made it feel so much worse. 

 

Speaking of the squip, it had, like an infection, begun to act up even more since that first night. Jake didn't want to tell anybody. He knew it was bad for it to start up again, and he knew it could be stopped with some Mountain Dew Red, provided generously by Michael, but he didn't want to talk about why it was acting up again. Michael might not ask, but the risk wasn't worth it to Jake. He didn't want to admit what was happening and what triggered his squip to hate him, that would mean it's real. Which he didn't want. 

 

By the way, Jake's squip fucking  _ hated  _ him. 

 

It taunted him weekly, usually late at night. It appreciated his plan of avoiding Rich, but it still spit out names and mockeries of Jake every chance it could to try to get him to change. 

 

By now, after a month and a half, Jake had heard basically all of it. He'd heard,  _ Rich would never say yes to you, even if he pitied you.  _

 

_ You've literally never gone out with anybody besides girls before, how do you know that you aren't just faking it?  _

 

_ It's not worth it to just become a faggot whenever you want, it doesn't work that way.  _

 

_ God, I wish I hadn't come back, you're even more pathetic than you were when I left.  _

 

_ You need to be fixed, Jake, it's the only thing that can put this back together again, let me help you.  _

 

_ Your parents would be ashamed of you, they'd be embarrassed by you, they'd hate you for this. Maybe they already knew, and that's why they abandoned you, ‘cause they knew you were a disgusting waste wishing he was special.  _

 

That last one hurt. Hurt way more than Jake wanted to admit. It was also the one that inspired him to start drinking almost every single night to make it stop. 

 

He just wanted it to stop. Not just his squip (which still had no power over his actions), but his infatuation with his best friend. The bad news was, alcohol could only stop one of them. It had gotten to a point once where Jake had felt he'd crossed a line (as if he hadn't already crossed it). 

 

He was in really bad space when he started jacking off to Rich. 

 

He didn't really know why he let it get that far, but he remembers that he was drunk. It was one of the nights where he had  _ way _ more than two beers, which was usually the sweet spot for making his supercomputer shut up for a while. He had been watching a show with Rich when he suddenly blacked out and came to on his bed, being rearranged. He giggled and said something, but he didn't remember what, exactly. Something about Rich's arms. 

 

“Go to sleep, Jake,” he heard Rich say. Jake tried to say something in reply but it came out muffled from his mattress. Rich closed Jake's door and Jake fell deeply asleep. 

 

He woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with a throbbing wooziness in his head. He felt like he had been stuffed with cotton balls dipped in oil or something, he felt so gross. He turned over onto his stomach, groaning just for the sake of it. The alcohol wasn't remotely out of his system yet, but a headache was on the horizon, and Jake didn't want to be awake for it. He couldn't remember if he had any classes the next day, but he didn't really care. He just wanted to sleep the whole day away, but it was hard to for some reason. His legs felt too active. He moved them around a little so he could lay on his side and then,  _ oh _ .

 

Well fuck, he was hard. Alright. 

 

Jake sighed. He didn't want to deal with this. He just wanted to go to sleep. He reluctantly shoved his hand down his pants, moving his pillow underneath his head. 

 

He soon realized that jacking off with no mental image lead him nowhere except a dead end. Jake debated the pros and cons of just ignoring his piece of shit dick and going to sleep right then and there, but the end result was that he had to try again, and try harder this time. Damn it. 

 

His thoughts were slightly coherent, but still slurred. Jake didn't even know what time it was, and honestly he didn't really care. He just wanted the alcohol to go away, and that was through sleep, which was through jacking off. He was glad his squip was asleep, or he was pretty sure it would degrade him. 

 

At first, he made a distinct decision to avoid thoughts of Rich. He thought of other girls he had been with, including Chloe. Somehow, his fantasy of past girls morphed into a fantasy of Rich, long hair being traded for buzzed sides, slim arms around him morphing into toned, broad shoulders that pinned him down with ease. Jake didn't notice it had gotten there until it started to feel good.  _ Really  _ good. By then he couldn't stop, no matter the guilt that pooled in his gut. 

 

At this point he completely disregarded his slightly unofficial rule of Not Jerking Off To Rich, but honestly when had Rich ever applied to the rules Jake made? He exceeded all of them, being better than Jake could ever imagine, let alone ask for. He was so lucky to have him. Well, sort of have him. They were still on best friend basis, which came with this kind of boundary. But in his drunken state, Jake wanted everything, and his mind settled for no less, so it improvised what it didn't have. Jake didn't have the energy or coherency to stop himself.

 

He imagined Rich’s pretty mouth stretched wide around his cock, warm breath tingling against Jake’s groin. He messily attempted to match Imaginary Rich’s bobbing head with his hands, and  _ fuck _ if it didn't feel good. He roughly brought his hand from base to tip, base to tip, base to tip, rhythmically. Jake could almost feel the rushed pulse in his cock, almost feel how flushed it was in the dark of his room. 

 

He imagined Rich holding him while he got Jake off, twisting his wrists in just the right way as he breathed into Jake's neck. Rich pushing Jake into the bed as he grinded down on him, letting Jake hold onto his wrists for something to ground him. Rich riding Jake, arched back, wet mouth agape. Jake riding Rich, trembling as Rich thrust up into him, hard and slick, hitting the right spots at the right times. Anything and everything. 

 

Jake wanted everything Rich would offer, he realized, hysterically panting. His hand was making loud, slick sounds that were downright obscene and made Jake feel lucky that their apartment had thick walls. On one sickly good twist of his wrist he bit down on his pillow to muffle his moans. 

 

His free hand underneath him started to scramble along his sheets as he got closer and closer to coming. Jake whined as he bucked into his hand roughly, heat running through his veins. It was as if every nerve in his body was being set on fire. He vaguely wondered if Rich was loud during sex, since Jake could be particularly noisy if he was gone far enough. 

 

The mental image of Rich crying out, hazel eyes rolling into his head and looking thoroughly  _ fucked _ brought Jake rearing right up to the edge, a moment later toppling over. Both he and Imaginary Rich were shakily moaning, breath hot and wet, hand keeping a consistent pace on Jake’s leaking cock as it shot out thick streams of cum into the fabric of his sheets. Jake’s whole body tensed as he grabbed himself at the base, trying to stop himself from getting overstimulated. He was gasping for air, feeling a thin sheen of sweat start to dry on his body and causing him to shiver. He could feel every part of his skin on his body. He was melting into his mattress.

 

_ Fuck _ . Jake collapsed even further into his bed. He could barely think as the pull of sleep snagged on him, slowing his breath and closing his eyes. Within moments, he was dead to the world.

 

Jake couldn't look Rich in the eyes the next day. He was able to pass it off as a hangover, which he did have, but the  _ shame _ . Fucking  _ Christ, _ Jake didn't know someone could feel that horrible. It was so intense that he made a promise to himself to never think of Rich as jack-off material again. 

 

He had made good on it for a while. Or at least, he tried to. He sometimes had obscene thoughts that would show up at random, whenever he would look at Rich. Jake didn't like those, but he was sort of getting better at handling them. Sometimes. 

 

A little heavier emphasis on sometimes. 

 

-

 

Rich bought him breakfast one morning, calling it an early Christmas present. Jake loved it, he thought it was thoughtful. Rich wasn’t a good cook by any means,  and he was very frugal with how he spends money on other people, so him buying Jake a meal felt like the equivalent of treated to the Beauty and the Beast dinner (it looked really nice, it was a shame that Belle didn’t get to eat any of it). After breakfast, Rich headed to work,  while Jake stayed home to study. 

 

Jake ended up not studying. What a shocker. 

 

Nope. Jake was showering in cold water. In December. Totally. He didn't feel good, but he was trying to get better. He was trying to get thoughts out of his head by using the almost-freezing water to distract his brain. His stupid, stupid fucking brain. That made stupid decisions. God, Jake hated what he did sometimes. He especially hated what he did last night.

 

The night before, he had gone out to the bar Michael worked at to say hi, Michael had insisted. He and Michael had a nice conversation from opposite sides of the bar, with Jake determined to not talk to him about Rich. Michael teased him about it sometimes, and Jake wasn't a fan of it by any means. He danced around the topic every time. That night looked like it was another round of the same game.

 

“How’s Rich?” Michael asked, trying to put on an act of innocent interest. Jake could see Michael was itching for something juicy, like Jake had given him any extra details than when he first told him about his stupid crush. As if Jake would give him anything new since Michael started acting like this. He didn’t know why he was so interested in Jake’s journey through a panic-laced hellscape.

 

“Rich is Rich,” Jake spat.

 

“That’s a non-answer,” Michael pouted.

 

“It’s a non-question, dude. You can ask him yourself, it’s not like he’s incapable of talking to you.”

 

Michael stared at him in disbelief. “Jesus, dude. It was just a conversation starter.”

 

God damn it. Michael was right, Jake was being rude. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t have an excuse for that,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck, pulling at his hair, tense. Reign yourself in, Jake reminded himself.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jake hated that question. Or rather, he hated how he didn't know the right answer to that question. He could always lie with his mouth, but his face always told a different story; he was an open book. There was no point in lying, but he did it anyway, for whatever reasoning to be aloof and suppress his emotions. Jake could pride himself in his ability to ignore himself until the world ends in apocalypse. He was that good. Better than good, actually, he was  great.

 

Michael wasn’t one to ask without reason. He also wasn't one to quit fucking asking until he got an answer he liked. No point in lying right now, why not tell the truth.

 

“No.”

 

“You uh,” Michael reached below the bar and pulled out a shot glass. “Want a little friend to help out?”

 

“You’re a horrible influence, you know that right?”

 

“I’m only a horrible influence if you can’t hold your liquor.”

 

“Okay,  a  _ really _ horrible influence. Like, absolutely terrible.”

 

Michael laughed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought it might be a little helpful, considering.”

 

“Considering what?” Jake didn’t like how Michael didn’t answer. He sighed tentatively. “Should I take a shot before or after you tell me?”

 

“Uh, shit I shouldn't have brought this up right as you got here. Before.”

 

Well fuck, what was the deal? Jake stayed anxious but patient while he waited for his shot glass to fill before throwing it back, grimacing at the taste. It went down cold and brewed in his stomach warm. 

 

“Okay, you ready?” Michael asked. 

 

“I dunno, how ready do you think I'm gonna be?”

 

“Maybe you should take one more–”

 

“Dude, what's the deal,” Jake snapped. “Just get it out, I won't hate you.”

 

Michael grimaced in disagreement. He was wringing his hands. Jesus Christ, how bad was this? Did he kill someone or something? He sure was hyping it up. Jake didn’t want to have to hide  body.

 

Turns out it wasn't that. Jake didn't really know what he expected, but it probably didn't warrant the reaction he had.

 

“I told Jeremy about your crush,” Michael visibly cringed, retracting into himself and hissing through his teeth. 

 

“You  _ what?”  _ Michael was right about the drinks, Jake felt like he needed three more. 

 

“I'm sorry! I mean, no, technically I'm not because it ended up okay, but–”

 

“Dude are you serious? I told you that as a secret, which are supposed to, you know,  _ be kept as a fucking secret.”  _ Jake couldn't tell if he was actually mad at Michael or playfully mad at Michael. There wasn't a thin, definite line, more of a general blur, and Jake felt like it would be so much easier to just make a binary choice. Ascribe to one thing and live with the decision. That was bitterly ironic because of how non-binary this situation was.

 

“I know! I know, and that’s why I’m getting you drunk on my paycheck. As an apology. To a dear friend.”

 

“I–thanks. Thanks for that,” Jake sighed, exasperated. “Why did you tell Jeremy?”

 

“It was an accident, it just slipped out, I swear. I didn't want to be an asshole and go behind your back or anything, that really wasn't what I wanted to do,” Michael said, pressing his hands together, absently begging for forgiveness.

 

“No, I–I know. It’s okay.” It wasn't okay, but he knew Michael was being honest, he had no reason not to be.  Jake forcefully swallowed his frustration and let his head fall into his hands. “What do you mean by ‘it ended up okay’?”

 

“Well,” Michael leaned over the bar, resting his elbows akimbo. “Jeremy is convinced that Rich likes you back.”

 

Jake glared at him from underneath his eyebrows, trying to make the distrust as blatant as possible without purchasing  the billboard across from the parking lot to say ‘Get Fucked Michael Mell’. Michael seemed to catch on, smart.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s true!”

 

“Is you telling me this the only reason you invited me out here?” Jake was losing whatever patience he surprisingly had. Michael had a gift for getting on his nerves, a real fucking talent. Jake didn’t know why he trusted him with both his humor and his personal information. Jake didn’t know why he was still hunched over the bar, sitting lopsided on a swivel seat that was falling apart at the leather seams. Jake didn’t know why he didn’t just stand up and walk out into the frigid night, heading home specifically to panic. Jake didn't know but it didn't matter. He kept his ass halfway-seated while he watched Michael pour alcohol into glasses and apologies out of his mouth.

 

“Jake, buddy, you gotta believe me when I tell you, Jere talks to Rich a  _ lot _ , Rich tells him basically everything. I’m pretty sure he knows what he’s talking about when he says that Rich probably feels the same way.” 

 

Okay, this has gone on long enough, this game of Let's Get Jake’s Hopes Up. Time to stop, Michael.

 

Jesus, that was harsh, Jake thought at himself. Michael was just trying to make him feel better, feel like he actually has a chance at not ruining his relationship with the person he loves most in life. Jake was glad he didn't have the habit of saying any of his thoughts out loud.

 

Jake grinned, shoving his ire down into the depths of his throat. “Thanks.”

 

Michael sighed, hands folding over each other. He realized the topic had been exhausted. He suggested it be changed, ignored, switched to something both he and Jake know they’re excited for.

 

So they did. They talked about movie trailers they had seen recently, (Michael took the opportunity to gush about the new episode of Star Wars and how he needed Jake to babysit Yoshi for the premiere night, so it looked like Jake had a new side job, cool), they traded blackout stories, and talked about some event Chloe invited them to. She was able to snag tickets to a comedy show for everyone in the group. Well, technically her dad did, he managed a few clubs in Jersey and he saved her a few seats as a celebration for another semester in the can. She insisted everyone came and “not embarrass her with an empty table”. So they all cleared their schedules and promised they'd go for fear of Chloe Valentine kicking the shins of their self-consciousness.

 

As the conversations flew and the alcohol level in his blood was on a steady incline, Jake drunkenly wondered if he could consume the rest of the almost-empty Absolut bottle with intent to contract alcohol poisoning. With how big he was and how there was only enough for five more shots, definitely not, but the harm in trying is something Jake could handle. Hell, it’s something that he wanted. 

 

Jake was overreacting, he knew. He caved, ordered a double shot and hit it against the bartop.

 

After a while of letting the intoxication group behind his eyes and chatting with Michael, a lovely girl appeared out of the ether and latched herself to Jake’s arm, flirting smoothly and expertly. She had silky black hair and a curled smile adorned with dark lipstick. Her voice was slurred and her breath was hot against Jake’s ear. He bid Michael goodnight and left with the girl, who he learned was named Maya, if he remembered correctly.

 

They had gone to her place which was on-campus, not too far from Jake and Rich’s apartment. That's good, he wouldn't need to walk far to get back to him.  _ No, don't think about Rich right now, there's a beautiful girl in front of you who wants you, want her back,  _ a voice in the back of his head insisted. Jake couldn't tell if it was his or the squip’s. He tried to push Rich to the back of his mind. 

 

It didn't end up working. At all.

 

Jake had tried to show Maya a good time, treating her gentle and sweet, slow and steady. He kept his eyes open, forcing himself to look at Maya’s face, and to not focus on how her moans were low and guttural, almost masculine. No, Jake, focus on her long hair, her slim shoulders, her tanned skin. Don't think about how different they are from short, silky hair, bulky form, fire kissed skin. Don't close your eyes. Don't think about it.  _ Don't fucking think about it.  _

 

_ Don't think about him.  _

 

Jake had started losing himself in frustration. His hips stuttered as he gritted his teeth. He pulled out and away from Maya, shakily apologized, pulled his clothes back on, and left without looking at her face or giving her a chance to speak. He heaved the entire walk home, hands shoved in his pockets forcefully as if to punish himself. God damn it.

 

The lights were off when he came home, and he forced himself not to look into Rich’s room when he walked past it. Jake closed his door behind him quietly and turned the light on. He pulled his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear and T-shirt, looking at anything except his mirror or his body. He felt disgusting. He fell asleep atop the covers with the light on. 

 

Jake was woken up by an ecstatic Rich, patting the side of Jake’s pained face with vigor. 

 

He grinned as he watched Rich scramble out of the room as Jake lifted up a pillow, threatening a beating. He heard Rich’s contagious, mischievous laugh from the hallway. Jake felt his heart beat fast. He grinned wider. 

 

Jake felt horrible. 

 

His ‘mistake’ of a jack-off and his ‘mistake’ of trying to drown his feelings in a girl (who definitely deserved better) left Jake feeling sick to his stomach with shame. He had tried and failed for a good two hours to not dwell on them. He couldn't stop thinking about either, distracting him from his English study packet, driving him to the shower to scrub the thoughts away. 

 

The water was cold, but not cold enough to contract hypothermia. Oh well. It still left burning tingles on Jake’s skin, forcing him to be hyper aware of himself. He hissed at first, but soon sighed, realizing that his impulsive decision had done its job. It shut his brain up for a bit. 

 

He forced himself to move directly under the shower, water hitting the back of his neck and trickling down his chest. Shit, it was cold. He could only focus on the harsh chill that enveloped him, sinking its way into his skin. He felt goosebumps rise and he reflexively rubbed his arms, as if that would help. Fuck, it was really cold. _ Fuck _ , it was so fucking cold. Jake started to shiver, teeth clattering.

 

God, Jake was so stupid. He needed to study, finals were next week, why was he doing this? Get out of the shower, Jake. 

 

Jake got out of the shower, muttering curses at the cold water and himself. That was stupid, but it worked, to some degree. He had to lighten up on himself a little bit, fuck.

 

Jake roughly dried himself off with a towel he thought was clean, wrapping it around his waist. He sighed, staring blankly in front of himself. He could see his reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't want to look at it. He didn't want to confront himself. He was disgusting. He hated himself for how he acted towards his best friend. He hated how he tried to make his problems go away and ended up dragging someone else into his mess. He hated how he had fucked up his friendship to a level where Rich couldn't tell Jake everything anymore. He hated that it was his fault. It was all Jake’s fault.

 

Yeah the cold shower didn't really work, did it.

 

Fuck. 

 

-

 

Rich came home a little late for the comedy show Chloe forced them to attend so he got ready in a panic. Jake had been ready for hours, he had actually gone through a majority of his closet looking for something to wear. He didn't really know why (he did know why, he was trying to impress Rich). He felt like a teenage girl with how much he cared about his appearance. It felt fucking stupid. As if Rich would notice or even care. 

 

“God damn it, why did I decide to use this gel? Its horrible,” Rich groaned as he tried to style his hair in the mirror.

 

“I dunno man, you look fine without any stuff in your–your hair.” Jake cleared his throat. God, he was pathetically obvious. He bounced his leg from where he was sitting on the toilet seat.

 

Rich laughed. “Yeah, and you look fine without your literal everything about you,” he said casually. 

 

Jake looked up at him, but Rich wasn't looking back, instead scrutinizing himself in the mirror. As if he would've been looking, dumbass, Jake told himself.

 

Jake laughed at him in mild disbelief and severe infatuation.

 

Once Rich finished getting ready, they sped to the show, trying their best not to get into a multitude of accidents. Rich wasn’t a great driver at all, Jake didn’t know why he let him drive the car this time. By the time Rich peeled into the parking lot, Jake felt almost as if a god up there was laughing at him, by giving him the opportunity to finish it all by riding with Rich in a car and then taking it away by safely arriving at their destination. Is this what it was like to be condemned by the lord itself?

 

Everyone else was there already, crammed into the narrow lobby to avoid the cold. Christine broke out into a wide grin and gave both of them a warm, tight hug to say hello. 

 

“Oh god, you’re here,” Michael teased, smiling wide.

 

“Yeah I got dared to search for the cringiest fuck in Jersey, so here I am,” Jake shot back immediately. Eh, it wasn’t great, but it was something.

 

“Wow, Jake, I can’t believe you hate homosexuals.”

 

“No, I just hate you.”

 

“Unbelievable. You monster. How dare you.” 

 

“Play nice, you guys,” Brooke piped in from a few feet away. She was talking to Chloe by the entrance doors, and seemed to be wearing her red jacket. Jake recognized it. He didn’t know Chloe still had it.

 

“We  _ are _ playing nice, we love each other! Isn’t that right Jakey?” Michael grinned. Oh my  _ god _ .

 

“I hate you more than I hate myself, you dick,” Jake retorted dryly. 

 

Michael ignored Jake's jab at him. “Hey, how did last night go? Lyra is fuckn’ crazy, she treat you okay?”

 

Lyra? Fuck, was her name Lyra instead of Maya? Holy  _ fuck,  _ Jake was such an asshole. Couldn't even remember the fucking girl’s name correctly. He was practically married to self-hatred by now.

 

“Uh, fine, I guess,” Jake answered, wide eyed. He saw Rich out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't tell what emotion played on his face. Jenna pulled Jake’s collar and picked up on a story about how someone in a lecture of hers looked exactly like him, ‘doe eyes and all’. Jake was half listening, absorbed within his own pit of vile regret. 

 

Michael patted Jake on the shoulder in passing as he went into the club. Everyone followed suit.

 

The show ended up being really nice, it felt good to laugh. The comedian had a really fun bit about Star Wars, which Chloe didn’t really get. After the show, Jeremy and Michael had a mild argument with her trying to explain how Star Wars was an important movie series to the human race, but Jake didn’t really listen in. He was exhausted, but he didn’t know what from. Guess he just needed to sleep.

 

Jake walked alongside Rich out to the parking lot. Jake tried to restrain himself from brushing shoulders with him, seeking warmth. Keep your distance, Jake. “Hey man, I know we were planning on going out for food after this but honestly? I think I need to go to bed.”

 

“Oh, really?” Rich replied.

 

“Yeah, I think I wore myself out today with studying and all,” Jake lightly fibbed. “You can still go, I can call an uber or something–”

 

“No no, it’s fine. I kinda want to go home too.”

 

Ah fuck. Jake was probably putting him out. “Are you sure man? I don’t wanna like…”

 

“Nah, man!” Rich patted Jake on the back. “It’s fine. I wanna go home.”

 

They bid their reluctant goodbyes and piled into the car, Rich driving again. He went slower this time, thankfully. Jake took the added security and rested his head on the door, closing his eyes. The pull of sleep was warm and inviting, but not yet strong enough to consume him, taking him gently. Jake reveled in it for a while. He found a small semblance of peace in it.

 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Rich asked, “Did you mean what you said? Before the show, that you hate yourself?”

 

Jake opened his eyes, frowning. Rich looked nervous, eyes wide and staring intently at the road in front of him. What? Why was he asking this? “Uh, no. It was a joke. Wait, you heard that?”

 

“No–I know it was a joke, I just–” Rich sighed, impatient with himself. “You… haven’t really seemed to be doing that great recently.”

 

Jake stayed silent.

 

“So I was just, I was just wondering if you meant that. You, uh, hating yourself.” Rich continued awkwardly. He cleared his throat.

 

Jake didn’t answer for a little bit. He felt uncomfortable for some reason, as if he was put under a spotlight, words being dissected. He didn't like it. “Why, are you worried?”

 

“Well, kind of, yeah–”

 

“My humor is always dark,” Jake argued.

 

“No, I know, I just–”

 

“Why are you nitpicking at this, man?” Jake was irritated. He didn’t want to have a conversation like this right now. He just wanted to go home, full of laughs from the show. He was tired. He wanted a drink and he wanted his bed. He didn’t have the energy to explain himself.

 

Rich swallowed. “You drink. A lot.”

 

“I like alcohol, is that a crime?”

 

“No, it’s not a crime, I’m just saying. You…you do it a lot, lot more recently.” Rich looked over at him, worry shaping his thin brows.

 

Jake looked away the second Rich’s eyes met his, guilt seeping into his hands and weighing them down like lead. Rich turned back to the road. The silence between them grew more and more stale as the minutes ticked by. It was unbearable, both of them tense and out of place. Someone said something wrong, but neither were sure what was said wrong and who said it. Jake clenched his jaw and pressed his hands together between his legs, dreading the thick awkwardness between him and his ‘best friend’. Soon, they were pulling into their parking spot at the apartment complex.

 

Rich killed the engine but didn’t leave the car, sitting and staring at his lap where he was fidgeting with the keys. Jake still didn’t look at him, letting Rich make the first move. He didn't trust himself to not lash out at Rich. He didn't understand why he was acting like this, there was no reason to get hostile. The best thing he could do was wait it out, probably. God, he just wanted to sleep it off.

 

When Rich finally did speak, his voice was soft, masking its melancholy tone. “I just want you to know that whatever the shit you’re going through, you can tell me. I would never judge you, or anything.”

 

Yes you would, Jake thought. Yes you would judge me, the kid who treated you like shit for having a boyfriend and then got a crush on you, you would totally fucking judge me. Jake turned to look at Rich, hoping his eyes didn’t spell out his thoughts in plain English like a fucking LED display.

 

“I’m not gonna force you to tell me, dude. It just sucks to see you hurting,” Rich said, looking him in the eye. He wasn’t fidgeting, he was completely still, somber. He was serious.

 

Genuine. He was being a friend. 

 

He was being Jake’s best friend. 

 

Jake broke. Not completely, but just enough to acknowledge that he would break eventually. He felt all the words he had wanted to say for months on end accumulate in the back of his mouth, itching at his tongue. He needed to be careful with which ones he chose to let out. He couldn’t swallow all of it anymore. Jake took a deep, shuddering breath, regretting its sound. 

 

“I wish I could tell you, but…I don’t think it’s the right time to,” Jake breathed. He hoped his squip wouldn’t come to haunt him tonight because of this, but it probably would. Especially now that Jake had admitted what a time he was having. Things were about to get worse. Way, way fucking worse. He offhandedly wondered if he could take it. 

 

Rich smiled hopefully. “Whenever you’re ready, Jakey.”

 

The use of the nickname made a lump catch in Jake’s throat. God, Rich was too good for him, Jake didn’t deserve this. Rich was so kind and understanding, patient and careful when he put in the effort. He was sentimental and selective of his friends, willing to do anything for the ones he loved the most. Jake loved it. He loved the way Rich lazily stretched out after work, shirt riding up and not caring about pushing it back down. He loved the way Rich would walk with slick confidence, eyes blazed forward, shoulders squared. He loved that Rich had a cowlick that lead a dictatorship over the rest of his hair, and he loved that it always stuck out adjacently like a tree branch when Rich had bed head. He loved that Rich knew his Chipotle order by heart and could recite it in his sleep. He loved the way Rich said his name. 

 

Jake loved him.

 

Jake felt his eyes well up with tears as he kept Rich’s eye contact, vision blurring and emphasizing the highlight on Rich’s face with the sidewalk lights. His eyes were soft and tender, washing Jake over with adoration and a sense of genuine belonging. Like Rich accepted all of him, even the things he didn’t know yet. 

 

Like Rich loved him back. 

 

Jake blinked hard and exited the car.

 

-

 

The squip was  _ horrible _ that night. Jake applauded himself for predicting the storm of fury correctly. 

 

Jake could feel it’s beady eyes stare at him with animosity as he brushed his teeth. Jake elected to not look at it, shocked at the amount of balls he had. Standing up to your squip was like standing up to the law, it knew exactly how to ruin you and how to keep you from testing it again. Jake tried to hold onto his reserve for as long as he could. It followed him into his room, intense gaze unwavering. Jake got under the covers and started to play a radio station on his phone, trying to give him something to focus on. The squip would keep him up all night if he didn’t have something to drown it out.

 

He felt his squip bore it’s line of sight into the back of Jake’s head, wringing his stomach in anticipation for the abuse that Jake knew was coming. Finally, it spoke up, _If I could shock you right now, I would._

 

“Yeah, you probably would,” Jake agreed, voice quiet. “But you can’t. Let’s keep it that way.”

 

_ Don’t you realize what you did? You almost blew your cover. _

 

Jake was silent for a moment. “Maybe it’s time to.”

 

He turned up the volume on his phone. 

 

It didn’t do as good of a job as he expected.

 

He heard every word, every syllable of the squip’s abuse. It was cutthroat and merciless, making Jake curl into himself just a little bit more every time it said Rich’s name. He tried not to focus on it, to listen to the pop tunes drifting through the air, upbeat and energized. He regretted not buying more beer, they ran out a few nights ago. He would kill for some right now. 

 

The squip pulled out every weapon it had. It cut Jake through with assertions of his parents’ abandonment, Rich’s probable unrequited feelings, Rich’s likely distrust in Jake, his worthlessness, his illegitimacy. It kicked at every foundation Jake had, rattling him and making him squeeze his eyes shut.

 

_ I am the only thing that would be good for you, Jake,  _ it said.  _ I can fix this, I can make this all go back to normal, before you made such a human error. _

 

_ Love,  _ it scoffed.  _ What bullshit. It ruins everything. Wastes opportunities. _

 

It leaned close to Jake’s ear, and Jake could almost swear he felt it’s nonexistent breath on his skin. 

 

_ Why would you think you would be worthy of it, now that you’ve ruined everything? _

 

Jake hugged his head in his arms as he felt tears slip down onto the sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feelings and a smorch and a fuck come next YEEEEE
> 
> (also on a serious note thank you guys so much for leaving comments on my shit i cant fully express how much i appreciate them!!! i was close to deleting this fic no less than five times, thanks so so much for being excited for more. means i gotta finish this. im trying and thank you so much!!!)
> 
> pwease fowwow me on tumbwr @withyourbrains >//w//<


	3. A Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hope you like over-written emotions because thats what this chapter is all about  
> lets hope this fandom isnt crawling for its last breath right now

Jake woke up in the afternoon. He was sweaty and gross, mood already in the gutter. Well. he couldn’t tell where it was exactly, he felt sucked dry. The sluggish consciousness someone gets after anaesthesia. Jake still felt asleep, feeling life pass in a strangely standstill way. He didn’t move for a little bit. 

 

He scrubbed his face as he shuffled into the living room, surprised to see Rich sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a notebook. Oh. Jake thought he had work today. Guess he was wrong.

 

“Hey,” Jake said, scratching the back of his head. 

 

“Oh, hey man!” Rich smiled widely. Don’t do that, Jake thought. “Good morning.”

 

“It’s one in the afternoon.”

 

Rich silently glanced over at the clock on the microwave and cursed.

 

Jake laughed, pulling a freezer-burned packaged burrito and nuked it for a little longer than it was probably supposed to. While he was waiting by the microwave, Jake became keenly aware of Rich’s presence in the other room, himself suddenly feeling flushed and out of place.

 

He had confronted his squip head-on last night, which was honestly kind of a surprise. Jake didn't expect himself to have the courage to do that, especially with how vicious it could be. What surprised him even more was how quickly he had accepted that it was time to tell Rich, let the whole almost-panic-attack feeling quit looming in the back of his brain. 

 

The past month and a half of suppressing it hadn't really done well by him, since every time Jake was even near Rich he had to contain himself from holding his hand, from outing himself and letting the past couple months pour out of his mouth, unrelenting and uncensored. Jake didn't know what else to do except try to bury it face down, but it sort of turned out to be a mistake. It only made the pathetic pining worse, returning each time with a heavier arsenal of new things to notice about Rich that Jake obviously adored. 

 

God, Jake was such a fucking mess. 

 

He heard Rich sniff exactly twice, the second one way too forceful. Jake smiled dopily. He was so gone. He was so pathetically, hopelessly gone. Rich practically held Jake’s heart in his hands and he didn't even know it.

 

Jake shakily sighed. It looked like today was the day he would lose his best friend.

 

Wouldn’t be a bad day to die, he jokingly added.

 

The microwave beeped, snapping Jake out of his thoughts. He winced at the heat of the burrito but endured it, as though he couldn’t be bothered with the burning on his hands and in his mouth. A dead man walking, Jake thought absently. The only thing he could feel was the tension knotting itself in his gut. He hesitantly walked over to the couch to sit.

 

Jake ate his burrito in silence, staring off at the space in front of him. He forced his hands to stay still. He was consumed with the task of trying not to drown in anxiety and trying to figure out how to bring up the fact that he currently wanted to die to Rich, who was innocently studying beside him. The contrast between them was hilarious, Jake almost smiled.

 

He was 500% sure that this would go horribly, but he figured that if he had to do it, it would be best to just start slow. Start slow. One thing at a time. Slow. 

 

Jake took in a shallow breath. He forced out sharply, “Is it okay if I tell you about something?”

 

Rich casually looked up from his studies. “Yeah sure man, of course. Is this about last night?” The sentence seemed to breeze easily off his tongue, no nervousness warbling it. Jake’s stomach plunged a little with jealousy.

 

Jake cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

 

Okay. Started slow, now admit something. Probably not best to go with the biggest thing right out the gate, like how Jake was in love with his best friend and had been for months, start with something small. Jake took a long string of deep breaths, promising himself that he would start the sentence at the beginning of the next one. He was stalling, he just needed to get it the fuck out there. Just say it, Jake, just say it.

 

Rich placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, you oka–”

 

“My squip came back.”

 

“It  _ what?” _

 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t as small a thing as he thought. Jake put his head in his hands, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “That’s why I’ve been drinking a lot. It makes it shut up.”

 

“You started doing that like months ago, though. Why the fuck didn't you ask Michael for some Red?” 

 

Jake despised himself, he should’ve told Rich sooner, he wouldn’t have been this angry. Surprised. Shocked. Whatever. He wouldn’t be this upset. Jake despised the nauseous anxiety that budded in his stomach. “I dunno. I was–I was kind of hoping that it would go away on its own.” Jake lied.

 

“Did you drink any Mountain Dew?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, Rich, I’m sure.”

 

“So it can't control what you do?”

 

“No, it can’t.”

 

Rich let out a relieved breath. His hand was still on Jake’s shoulder, relaxing slightly out of the nervous clutch that it developed. Warmth bled into Jake’s skin underneath Rich’s hand. Don’t think about that. Don’t. 

 

“Were you thinking about it? A lot? Is that why it came back?”

 

“No, I wasn’t trying to make it come back.”

 

“Then… “ Rich fumbled. He couldn’t understand why it came back if it was so spontaneous. Jake had to give him more information than that. Fuck. Okay. 

 

“I… think it came back because I found out something. About myself.” Jake lied, again. Well, it wasn’t a lie this time, just half of the truth. Here goes another thing. Fuck, was he ready to admit this? He was barely even done telling Rich about everything and he already felt like he was about to have a god damn heart attack. 

 

Jake reluctantly looked up from his hands to see Rich staring at him expectantly. His hand was still on Jake’s shoulder.

 

It’s a good day to die. 

 

Here goes.

 

“I’m… uh…I’m pansexual.” Jake held his breath. He didn’t know why he was terrified of this part, Rich would literally be the most accepting person in his life. This wasn’t the part Jake needed to be scared of. He sharply looked away from Rich’s face, focusing intently on the plaid fabric of his sleep pants.

 

Rich wasted no time answering cheerfully. “Oh! Congrats on finding out, bro.” He playfully punched Jake in the shoulder, a gesture of pride.

 

Pride.

 

Jake laughed dryly. “Yeah, squip doesn’t say congrats.”

 

“Oh,” Rich said, smile fading out of his voice.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I can see what you mean, man, that kinda happened to me.” Rich let his gaze drop in pity. 

 

A short silence settled between the two. Jake couldn’t tell if it was awkward or not, his anxiety tainted every emotion he had, leaving a ringing in his ears and a sharpness in his vision. His head was swimming and restless with dread.

 

“How about this,” Rich started, voice gentle. “We get some Mountain Dew Red from Michael—we don't have to tell him, if you want, we don't have to tell anybody. Not until you’re ready. Don’t beat yourself up about this man, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, if you do feel ashamed about who you like, I’m going to take it as a personal offense, as you have clearly learned nothing from being my—from living with me.”

 

Jake’s face split into a weary smile, an inch away from crying out of gratitude. Probably just overwhelming stress, but fuck he felt more thankful than anything. Rich was way too good to him. Rich was way,  _ way _ too good to him. He didn’t need to do this, take care of Jake. Rich didn’t deserve Jake, he deserved so much better. Jake was beyond a shitty friend to him, and then he wanted Rich all for himself. What an asshole move. Jake was so horrible.

 

“Jake?”

 

Jake refused to look up. His vision went blurry, swathed with tears and  _ fuck, _ Jake didn’t want this to happen. Fuck fuck  _ fuck fuck fuck. _

 

“Jake are you okay?”

 

Jake  _ shattered _ .

 

All the suppressing, all the escaping, all the denying, all the anger, it was suffocating him. He shook with silent sobs, unable to stop the tears falling down his cheeks. Fuck, he didn't want this to happen. He wanted to stop, please just make this stop.

 

He felt Rich pull him into his chest, wrapping his arms around Jake, holding him together. Jake forced his arms to stay in his lap, limp and useless.  _ Fuck,  _ he wanted to hold Rich back so  _ fucking bad. _ He almost felt sick with the heat on his face. He tried to reign in his cries at least a little bit.

 

“I'm sorry.” Jake shakily exhaled. “Of–of all the people to be a piece of shit mess, I–I didn't want it to be me.”

 

Rich was silent for a moment and Jake was terrified to look up. Terrified to look up to see a disappointed face. Jake forced his eyes to stay closed until he felt two hands cradle the sides of his face.

 

Jake jolted up, eyes blearily settling on Rich’s face. It was soft, eyebrows turned upward. If Jake wanted to, he would go as far to say Rich looked…endeared by him. Rich looked him straight in the eye, hazel meeting green, commanding attention. Jake was vibrating with nervous energy. His hands felt like they were going to sink to the floor. 

 

Rich visibly swallowed as if he was nervous. “Jake, you're not a piece of shit. Also, everybody's a mess.”

 

Jake let out a dry laugh, not breaking their eye contact. He let himself lean into Rich’s soft, warm hands. How were they so soft?

 

“Listen to me, okay? Everybody’s a mess. Everybody. What’s important is when they try to fix it.”

 

“I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to fix this one.”

 

“Why not?” Rich asked.

 

Jake let his eyes fall. Here goes everything. His entire reason for happiness. His entire reason for being. On this day, Jake Dillinger would ruin his best friendship with a deep, shaky breath and clenched fists.

 

“I…I’m in love with you.” Jake closed his eyes.

 

He heard Rich’s breath hitch and Jake winced. This was going to go downhill into the neverending void of hell. He was going to be swallowed whole and he definitely fucking minded that. He continued anyway.

 

“I’m sorry. I tried to stop it, it wasn't right. Especially after how I reacted to you dating Eric. I shouldn't have started this, it was a shitty way to do this, I’m–”

 

“Stop stop stop,” Rich said, hands digging into Jake’s face and tilting it up, so that they were looking at each other eye-level. “What are you talking about, how you reacted to me dating Eric? Why is that important?”

 

Jake scoffed. “I acted awkward and shit, like I was uncomfortable with you dating a guy, it was really shitty of me. I was being a homophobic asshole and I never fixed it and I never stopped myself from doing it again.”

 

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about, you never acted weird whenever I brought up Eric.” Rich frowned. His hands were still on Jake’s face. They were so, so warm.

 

“Yes I fucking did, Rich,” Jake denied. “I would get quiet and weird, and eventually you stopped talking about him because I acted like that. I made you feel ashamed to be dating someone, and I’m never going to make up for that, and I’m sorry.”

 

“Jake, listen to me, you never fucking did that.”

 

“Rich–”

 

“No. Shut the fuck up,” Rich interrupted, shaking Jake in his hands for emphasis. “You never did anything that made me ashamed. Ever.”

 

“I beg to differ, buddy.”

 

“Really? Then explain it. Explain how you made me ashamed to be bi. Say it.”

 

Jake stuttered, looking for the right words. “Y–dude, I–”

 

“Exactly. You never did,” Rich interrupted again.

 

“Then how come you never wanted to talk about him to me, since you weren’t ashamed about it?” Jake sighed and resisted the urge to take Rich’s hands in his. Don’t. Fucking don’t.

 

It was Rich’s turn to flounder. “Wh– I just felt like, you probably didn’t wanna hear me being gay all the time, I’d annoy you with that shit.”

 

“Why would you annoy me with it? You never annoy me,” Jake said. He hoped that Rich would believe him. “Michael is literally the most obnoxiously gay person I know, I’m never annoyed by him.”

 

“Yeah but Michael and I aren’t the same people.”

 

“True. Michael isn’t my best friend.” Jake tried not to trip on his own tongue.

 

Rich stayed silent and turned his head down. He let his hands fidget in his lap. Was he… blushing?

 

“Are you telling the truth?” Rich grit out.

 

“What? Of course I am, you’re the most important person to me,” Jake replied.

 

“No no, about… “ Rich swallowed. “About being… in love with me.”

 

Jake took a deep breath and shoved the lump in his throat down to his stomach. He practically felt the dirt of the grave he was digging for his only meaningful friendship as he replied with a resounding, “Yes.”

 

Rich was on the fucking verge of tears. Oh  _ god. _ “Why do you look like you hate yourself when you say it?”

 

Jake didn’t have the energy to scornfully smile. He couldn’t try for anything else except honesty. For once. “Because I  _ do _ hate myself.”

 

“Why,” Rich all but sobbed. “ _ Why _ do you hate yourself? You don’t need to. You shouldn’t.”

 

Jake stayed silent as he subsequently hated himself for being the reason why Rich was weeping with this much pain. He hated himself for how Rich frowned and his forehead wrinkled and how he clenched his jaw and how he swallowed hard. He hated himself.

 

“Why–why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve told me. I–I’m your best friend, I live with you, I fucking–I  _ burned your house down _ and you forgave me. Why didn’t you  _ tell me _ ? Jesus Christ, Jake. How long have you been suffering all alone in your head like this?”

 

Suffering all alone in his head. Makes it sound like Jake didn’t deserve it. Shit, Jake was really deep into this hole he dug himself into. God damn it, why didn’t he believe Rich? He unfocused his vision to keep himself from collapsing into tears again.

 

Okay, Rich. You want to know? You’ll get to know. “What’s the point in telling you if I’d ruin the best thing that ever happened to me?”

 

Rich was silent for a moment. It might have been only a second or two, but it felt like goddamn days. Weeks. Jake felt his heart wither into dust the longer Rich abstained from replying. 

 

“Why would you think that this would ruin it?”

 

What. “What?”

 

Rich’s bright, uneven smile shakily snuck across his face.“On what fucking planet would you being in love with me ruin the fact that I’ve been in love with you since senior year?”

 

_ What.  _ “… What?”

 

“Surprise, tall-ass,” Rich sang, voice restricted through a nervous grin. 

 

“You– _ what?!” _

 

“What, like it’s that much of a surprise?”

 

“Yes it’s a fucking surprise, you dick!”

 

“Did you really not see all of the times that I fucking stared at you? That I stuttered? That I forced you to be close to me? I didn’t date for two whole years because of you. Why do you think I tried to make my relationship with Eric work so hard? I was trying to move on, I thought you wouldn’t–” Rich’s voice wavered as he slowed to a stop, heaving. 

 

Jake had no idea what to say, so he had no reason to bite his tongue to stay silent.

 

What the  _ fuck. _ How did Jake miss this? Apparently to Rich, it had been so obvious, but as Jake raked through his mind he could barely find one instance where Rich was obviously smitten. Not a one. 

 

“I thought you were straight. You never would’ve gone for me.”

 

“Fuck no, I would’ve gone for you sooner if I wasn’t so afraid that you hated my guts.” Jake spat out in immediate reaction.

 

“Dude, I am literally devoted heart and soul to you, why in the everloving shit would I hate your guts?”

 

“Why would you think I wouldn’t love you back?”

 

After a resound beat of silence from both of them, Jake broke into laughter. This was such a horrible time to laugh, Jake knew it, but holy  _ shit.  _ They both really fucked this up, didn’t they? Oh my god, this was hilarious, Jake couldn’t stop the crescendo of laughter he was emitting. “You’d think for two people who live together this would’ve been solved sooner.”

 

Rich smiled in amusement. “Yeah, you’d think.”

 

Jake’s ringing laughter slowed to feverish giggles as he felt Rich cup his face once again. He let himself touch Rich’s hands this time, apprehensive of… something. He felt his stomach turn itself into three precise knots. 

 

Rich’s thumbs gently swept over Jake’s cheeks and Jake suddenly felt like an inexperienced child. Here he was, an adult registered to vote, frozen in place. Rich looked straight into Jake’s eyes, absolutely enamored. Jake didn’t know that Rich could look at things this way, he didn't even know that Rich was able to touch things this gently. This was such a small action, but it sent Jake’s head reeling. It was so sentimental and vulnerable, with Rich looking at him like he was a treasure, a privilege to know let alone touch and hold. 

 

It almost didn't make any sense. 

 

It was so  _ new. _ It was such a foreign feeling, being so visibly adored. No, not adored, that’s something high school girls did to him. That was shallow interest, they had a laundry list of reasons why they liked him then: he was in archery, he was on the football team, he was in their study hall class, he was good at chemistry, he was in their culinary club, he was in whatever he felt he needed to be at the time, and that he was hot. It meant nothing. Of course, he took them up on it, he had to. Or, felt he had to.

 

No. Not adored. 

 

Loved.

 

Shit, was this actual love?

 

Jake had…nothing to really compare it to. The closest he ever got to a semblance of romantic love was with Chloe, but that ended up feeling like just  passage of time. Being together while they were waiting for someone else. Someone better.

 

For a split second, Jake became furious as he stared at Rich’s face. Furious at the cards he was dealt, which were pretty nice cards, fair to say. Except for one. He was cheated out of unconditional love his whole life. He didn't even get love from his parents, he had to search for it in other people. It took him a disaster like the squip incident to find people that actually cared about him, and it took his own faults and mistakes to find someone that loved him more than that. And he was close to fucking that up before he even knew he really had that.

 

He never knew someone that would give love without being asked. He didn't know why he felt that he could devote all the love he felt his body could physically hold to Rich, he had absolutely nothing to base it on.

 

Fuck, it was terrifying. 

 

“You’re shaking,” Rich muttered under his breath, breaking the long silence. The tension in the air felt like a rubber band pulled too taut and all it took was one slight of hand to set a feared thing in motion. Jake didn't know what the ‘feared thing’ was, and maybe that's what he was afraid of.

 

Jake looked down at his hands that were clutching his knees. Sure enough, they were trembling–more than that, they were clenching down so hard that the knuckles were white. Good on Rich for having eyes that can see. Bad on Jake for being so fucking scared in front of his best friend. He swallowed nervously, sputtering, “Yeah I–uh, I am.” Great start Jake, tell him more about what he can see with his beautiful fucking eyes.

 

Rich loosened his grip on Jake. “Did I do something wrong–”

 

“No no no, you totally didn’t. It's just—me. I'm just—”

 

“Would now be a bad time to kiss you?” Rich interrupted.

 

Jake laughed and for once today, he wasn't afraid of his answer. “Absolutely not.”

 

Rich surged up to meet Jake’s lips, and he could swear on his life, it felt like time had stopped. Rich’s hands shifted down to Jake’s neck, holding him in place while he basically blew Jake’s mind to bits with his mouth. Yeah, that wasn’t a good descriptor, but Jake was having a hard time thinking right now.

 

Both of their lips were chapped. Rich had gum in his mouth, Jake could taste the spearmint. It wasn’t the most ideal kiss, it was actually far from it. It was borderline gross, as neither of them had showered yet that day. Jake’s heart was beating faster during this kiss than during every other one he’d ever had, though. 

 

Jake tilted his head and leaned into Rich, hands finally coming alive and grasping at his shoulders. Jesus, Rich was good at kissing. He met Jake in the middle every time, earnest and present. Jake felt like he was melting. 

 

They couldn't break away from each other. Every time one pulled away to breathe, the other followed their lips. Jake knew that kissing Rich would become an addiction of some sort; Rich was going to have to tell him when to stop because Jake for sure couldn’t gather the willpower to do that on his own. 

 

Jake didn’t know when it happened, but soon Rich was sitting in his lap, holding onto his shoulders like he was the only thing in the world to keep him alive. Jake moaned softly and Rich held onto him tighter. Oh my  _ god _ .

 

Jesus Christ Jake could hardly even keep one sentence in his head. All he felt was his blood rushing and how warm Rich was, just a ball of energy and heat encompassing him. He felt safe. 

 

Soon, they parted lips and rested on each others forehead. Jake’s eyes were closed as he caught his breath but he could feel Rich staring at him. Their breathing seemed to fall into synchronization. 

 

Jake laughed breathlessly. “What’cha staring at me for?” He said as he opened his eyes. Rich didn’t look away, keeping the eye contact dead on, soft and intense at the same time.

 

“Nothing, I just–” he said under his breath. Rich took in a shaky breath. “What do we do now?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jake smiled. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

 

Rich perked up. “Boyfriend, huh? We’re boyfriends now?”

 

“Think so, if you’re okay with that?”

 

“The fact that  _ you’re _ asking  _ me _ if  _ I’m _ okay with that is actually really fucking funny, I’m just saying,” Rich smiled. God, Jake loved his smile. “Boyfriend.”

 

“Boyfriend,” Jake repeated. He shook Rich a little bit in his arms, ecstatic. “ _ Boy _ friend.”

 

“Something wrong with the word?” Rich teased as he shifted more comfortably in Jake’s lap.

 

“No, nothing’s wrong with it. That’s why I’m saying it.” Jake smiled wide. “ _ Boyfriend _ .”

 

Rich let out a restrained groan and curled forward, hiding his head in Jake’s shoulder. “Why are you so goddamn cute, what the  _ fuck _ .”

 

“I’m not trying to be!”

 

Rich shot back up. “That’s the worst part, you’re a natural at being adorable. That’s dangerous territory you belong to, man, straight up deadly.”

 

“Dangerous,” Jake echoed.

 

“Fucking hazardous, I could die, you know, from your face doing cute face things. You could kill me in an instant.”

 

“No-o-o, not my boyfriend!” Jake fake shouted up to a fake god. “We had so much potential!”

 

“You’ve squandered our future together, Jakey, all because you were dangerously adorable.”

 

“Fuck, do you think if I tone it down you’ll be able to come back to life?”

 

“I think I can manage,” Rich smiled. 

 

Jake smiled back.

 

Rich’s electric grin softened after a short while. He took in a steady breath and let his eyes fall from Jake’s face. “Thank you for telling me. About all this.”

 

Jake didn’t respond.

 

“I–I know how horrible a squip can be. I’m kind of mad that you didn't tell me about it sooner, because we would've been able to solve it a lot sooner and you wouldn't have had to feel like shit. Actually wait, no I'm not mad. I take that back, I'm not actually mad. I’m just… “ 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jake said.

 

“No no, don't apologize, man. I just– _ fuck _ . It just hurts me to know that you've felt that bad and… for that  _ long _ .”

 

Jake didn't know what to say. “I–I don't know what to say besides I’m sorry.”

 

Rich sighed and bit his lip. “It’s okay, Jake. It’s not your fault.” Jake bowed his head and Rich pulled him into his chest, one hand stroking his hair. “It’s okay,” Rich mumbled again.

 

They stayed like that for a little bit, just being aware of each other. Jake could feel each slow, regulated breath that Rich drew and found comfort in the rhythm. He paid attention to the wide hand gently petting his head, running its fingers through the cowlick at the back. 

 

No one Jake had ever dated showed this much affection—not even Chloe. She had always been a little self-centered in affection, getting Jake to do what she wanted when she wanted it. She hadn’t treated him like this. Nobody really had. It was… foreign. It was an entirely new situation, and it was entirely pleasant.

 

“What do you want to do now?” Jake asked, still enclosed in a headlock.

 

Rich took a breath. “I don't know, I think that’s kind of up to you.”

 

Jake nodded. “I don't want to go get some Red yet.” He was surprised at how easily an honest truth slipped out, now that everything else was out in the open.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Can we watch something instead?”

 

“Absolutely dude,” Rich replied as he reached for the remote. 

 

God, Jake loved him. He and Rich rearranged themselves on the couch, with Rich leaning back and Jake’s head in his lap. Rich’s hand snaked back into Jake’s hair as he flipped through shows.  _ God _ , Jake loved him. He swallowed hard before he murmured, “You’re really amazing, you know that right?”

 

The hand in Jake’s hair stopped. Jake looked up at Rich’s grinning face, finding the afternoon light made his face seem like it was glowing. “If I’m amazing then you’re incredible,” Rich insisted.

 

“Now there’s no way for me to win that argument if you're gonna keep one-upping me, dickface.”

 

Rich laughed and it felt like every single cliché Jake had ever heard in his life suddenly wasn’t a cliché anymore. Everything was new and everything was beautiful and it was all overwhelmingly lovely. Jake didn't even know how to describe what he was feeling.

 

“I love you,” Rich said.

 

“I love you too,” Jake said.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone long time no fuckn fic
> 
> im really sorry ive been busy ive just had a lot of stuff on my plate but hopefully this lived up to your expectations (because it sure as fuck doesnt live up to mine lol)
> 
> thank you all for reading this and giving feedback!!! i appreciate it more than i could ever possibly say
> 
> it took me literally half a goddamn year to finish this and you know what thats not horrible 
> 
> have a good day

**Author's Note:**

> so theres one or two more chapters after this ill publish once i finish them jdfjdfjhdfj
> 
> im shook this is the longest thing ive ever written. mty knees.,, clattering. im shakenth,,, to my B O N E S girl
> 
> this will get worse. a fuck of a lot worse. there will be a lot of self hatred. like thats a main plot point. but itll get better i promise. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ withyourbrains if you want jokes about homosexuality and death and dogs


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